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Thank god for Sergeant Shimura.
No one says it out loud, but the whole precinct thinks it. Thank god for Shimura’s calmness, her stubbornness, and her intense need for caffeine. Because without her, the team would’ve never bought that fancy, seven-drinks-in-one coffee machine and Kudou would’ve been pounding on cafe doors begging anyone who was still up for a hot cocoa.
He would’ve done it too. Anything to make Yoichi smile that tiny smile of his.
Speaking of tiny, the man himself looks absolutely miniscule under the giant yellow All Might blanket that Izuku had offered him. Ever the kind-hearted and sensitive one, Izuku immediately ran and grabbed his prized possession the moment Kudou and his team had brought Yoichi in. “It gets cold in here sometimes,” Izuku had said and Kudou couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of pride for his precinct's newest detective.
He had misjudged Izuku once upon a time. Just like he is misjudging Yoichi now.
Every so often, Kudou has to stamp down the thought of how small and fragile Yoichi appears. He has to remind himself that no, Yoichi is not fragile despite his appearance. He’s stronger than he looks. Hell, he’s probably stronger than Kudou. Not physically of course (the man looked like the slightest gust of wind could knock him over and send him flying into the street) but mentally. After all, not just anybody could survive four years of solitary confinement. And not just anybody could survive All For One.
“You’re frowning at him,” the sharp voice of Nana interrupts Kudo’s train of thoughts. “He’s going to think that you’re mad at him.”
“Yeah, don’t do that,” Bruce adds, popping up next to Kudou like a misplaced jack-in-the-box. Yet unlike the comical toy, Bruce’s face is as stone-cold as Kudou’s. Perhaps a little nicer around the eyes but deadly serious nonetheless. Still, Kudou’s partner in crime has the gall to poke his cheek in a rather cheeky manner. “If you don’t relax that hardass expression of yours, your face will stick like that. And I think that our guest prefers it when you smile.”
Kudou glares at his two problem subordinates. “Shut up,” he responds, his annoyance at the case and Yoichi’s situation leaking out in a sharp hiss. “I don’t need you two acting like my moms.”
Nana rolls her eyes. “I sure hope you don’t,” she says, “I’m not playing mother to another manchild. It’s a miracle that I haven’t gotten any more gray hairs from Toshinori and Tenko.”
“Oh? Only Toshinori and Tenko? Not Izuku?” Bruce pipes up. Nana chuckles.
“Please, Izuku gives me daily stomach ulcers. Not gray hairs.”
“Ha!”
All three of them jump at the sudden booming tone of Banjo who had, despite his hulking figure and heavy footsteps, crept up on them. “Bet the kid will hate that! I gotta tell him when he gets back with Toshi. Where are the two slackers anyway?”
“The crime scene.”
The mood instantly shifts as Kudou utters those three words. It’s as if he had thrown open a metaphoric door and as much as they would all like to keep that door bolted and shut, his team knew they would have to face the unlocked truth sooner or later. “I told them to do a final check. Make sure we didn’t miss anything. Make sure we didn’t miss him.” Kudou hisses out the word, as if even the mention of that maniac would permanently destroy his tongue.
Banjo heaves a heavy sigh, the usual mirth leaving him in that single breath. Nana purses her lips, as if she had tasted the world’s most rancid lemon. And Bruce looks like he’s aged about ten years in two seconds. “Probably one of the most fucked up cases we’ve ever seen. Then again, everything that has to do with All For One is fucked up.” Nana says solemnly, “I mean, who keeps their own brother locked in a shipping crate of all places?”
“Someone with a heart filled with shit,” Banjo grumbles.
“And with a screw loose in their head,” Kudou adds.
There’s a long silence as the three of them stare at Yoichi. Then, to Kudou’s surprise, the man himself looks up. A small smile appears on his face and he nervously toys with a lock of his snow-white hair as he shuffles under his blanket. “I’m not sure if this is helpful, but my brother and I did eat a lot of garbage growing up. Literal garbage. Can’t say for sure that a parasite didn’t infect his brain when he was small.” Then, to the entire team’s surprise, the man says, almost playfully. “You do realize I can hear you, right?”
Yoichi’s voice is raspy and wavers slightly, like an ancient machine whose gears were all rusted over, and Kudou wouldn’t be surprised if these were the most words the man had said in years. His first conversation…. And he’s making jokes. God help Kudou.
Banjo lets out a loud, guttural laugh and from behind them, Hikage joins in. Even En’s bunched-up form quivers from his computer. Nana at least has the decency to blush. “I… well, we—” she mumbles, looking away from Yoichi’s piercing eyes to the crack in their ceiling. “I need more coffee,” she finally says.
Another wheeze escapes Banjo.
“I mean, we need more coffee,” she corrects, grabbing Banjo by his tie and pulling him away. Out of the corner of his eye, Kudou can see him and Hikage high-five each other like the two idiots that they are. He sighs and returns his attention to Yoichi.
“Sorry,” he says bluntly, “it wasn’t appropriate for us to discuss your circumstances so casually like that—”
“I don’t mind,” Yoichi quickly cuts him off, “I kind of like it actually. The talking I mean. It’s loud and… nice. I like it.” Yoichi’s face reddens as he admits this and hastily, he burrows into his blanket until the only thing Kudou could see was his snow-white hair.
There’s a million, admittedly awkward, things that Kudou can say in response to that saddening sentence. Instead, he glances at Bruce, hoping that he would somehow sense his need for assistance. Only Bruce has a different idea of what “assistance” looks like and he roughly pushes Kudou towards Yoichi. “Do your thing, boss man,” Bruce says, ignoring Kudou’s glaring eyes as he gives him a fucking thumbs-up. “You can do it and… stuff.” His insubordinate subordinate then beats a hasty retreat to En’s desk and the two of them stare at him, duo onlookers at the circus that is now Kudou’s life. If it weren’t for their strength, their stealth, and their courage, they would both be fired effective immediately.
As if sensing his intense discomfort, Yoichi emerges from his cozy hiding place and gestures to the seat next to him. He offers the awkward, pink-haired Captain a tiny smile, as if welcoming all of Kudou’s… Kudou-ness. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but thank you for the cocoa,” Yoichi says as soon as Kudou stumbles rigidly into the empty chair. “It was good… and very sweet.”
Kudou grunts in acknowledgement.
“I like sweet foods,” Yoichi continues, unperturbed. “While I was… with my brother, I ate a lot of supplements. He thought it was healthier than normal meals. But those nasty supplements were very bitter and tasted awful. Like grass and dirt mushed into a dry pill. Blegh!” Yoichi’s disgusted face almost, almost makes Kudou crack a smile.
“In my opinion,” the white haired man continues, “I think it’s better to just eat all types of food. Sweets included, as long as it’s in moderation. Seems smarter, don’t you think?”
Kudou grunts again.
From somewhere in the peanut gallery, Hikage laughs like a hyena and Kudou tells himself that's why his arms suddenly broke out in goosebumps. Not because Yoichi had turned to face him as he spoke.
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Yoichu says, fixing Kudou with his vibrant, intelligent eyes, “is it true that policemen love donuts and coffee? Or is that just something the press and fiction writers came up with?”
“Uh…”
“Because if you ask me, you don’t look like you have a sweet tooth. You’re all serious and frowny. But not in a bad way!” Yoichi quickly adds as Kudou hurries to cover his mouth. “I just mean, you probably have to look a little scary for your job. And maybe that is just me stereotyping, but you strike me as someone who doesn’t put sugar in anything. Even coffee! You look more like….” He pauses and looks Kudou up and down then chuckles. “Like maybe you have a spicy tooth.”
Kudou eyes widen, taken aback by both the onslaught of words and the very truthful statement. “How’d you—?”
“Know?” Yoichi finishes mischievously. “Besides pure luck and guessing, I could smell it on you. The spiciness I mean. It’s sticking to your clothes and—” He leans into Kudou’s personal space and sniffs him. “Yup, it’s on your breath too. So spicy!”
Kudou nearly falls out of his seat at how quickly he pulls back. Goddamn it, he’s never eating nuclear hot instant ramen with Banjo and Hikage ever again! The burning victory of having to witness his two partners fight over milk meant nothing against Yoichi’s growing smile.
“It’s not a bad thing!” he giggles, “it’s nice!”
Kudou, his pride extremely wounded and his face feeling warm, crosses his arms. It’s his only defensive move against those damn eyes, “Detective ‘Sweet Teeth’ like you probably can’t handle spice,” he grumbles grumpily. To his surprise, a contemplative look suddenly crosses Yoichi’s face and he goes silent as he thinks. Yoichi frowns, scrunches his nose, then licks his dried lips before humming to himself.
“I probably can’t,” he finally says. At Kudou’s confused raised eyebrow, Yoichi elaborates. “I never really liked spicy foods before. Made my stomach hurt. But now… I haven’t had it for years…” he trails off and his gaze falls to Kudou’s hands. His eyes fixate on them, much like how a cat became interested in a new toy or a piece of loose string.
“Well, maybe you can try again. Work up your tolerance—” Kudou says just as Yoichi cuts him off with his own question of, “Can I see your hands?”
Kudou blinks. He blinks again. Yet before he can even utter a monotone “What?”, Yoichi is already reaching out and grabbing one of Kudou’s rough, calloused hands, capturing them in his thin, boney ones. He flips Kudou’s hand with his own, brushing a cold finger over scars and bulging veins.
“Your hands are dry,” Yoichi says bluntly, “you should moisturize them more. And drink more water. Maybe change your dish soap too while you’re at it.”
This time, Kudou is finally able to say, “What?”
Yoichi merely smiles and pats his arm. “I just mean,” he says calmly, “I’d like for you to take care of yourself. Wouldn’t want the hands of my hero to dry up and crumble away.”
Kudou’s face burns.
The whole situation is made even worse by the loud, dramatic gasp he hears coming from behind him. That sound had to have come from Izuku. Which means that Toshinori is back. Which means that two more of his idiots have seen Kudou acting like… whatever the hell this is.
The only reason why Kudou doesn’t immediately retract his hand is because Yoichi, in all his frailness, has a surprisingly strong grip. When Kudou finally musters the courage to glance at the returned duo, he’s disgusted at the looks of shock (and awe) that Izuku and Toshinori give him. And of course, in Kudou’s hour of need, Bruce is nowhere to be seen.
“If you have time to gawk, you have time to report,” Kudou growls. The twin starry-eyed expressions immediately disappear, replaced by a sheepish look (Izuku) and a wet cough (Toshinori). “Sorry sir,” Izuku says. At Kudou’s withering glare, his youngest detective clears his throat and straightens his back. “It seems that All For One escaped via an underground passage. One that we didn’t initially find because it had been flooded. Letting the water out took a while, hence why we’re so late. Actually, it’s still pretty wet down here. But more importantly, there was no sign of any life or activity from what we could find so we can only assume that this was—”
“A pre-planned route. One that could be used in case of emergencies,” Toshinori finishes.
Internally, Kudou curses. Of fucking course that maniac had something else planned. Always one step ahead of his agency and his people. He then externally winces because yikes, his hand is suddenly being very painfully crushed. Kudou glances at the other man and his stomach drops as he is met with a very pale-faced, very terrified, Yoichi.
Oh fuck, he’s panicking.
Yet before Kudou can open his mouth and try to calm the man down, Izuku is suddenly rushing to his side, a determined look on his face. “We’re going to find him,” Izuku says, his green eyes locked onto Yoichi’s and holding his gaze. “I promise.”
Technically, he doesn’t have the authority to make such outlandish claims as that, but Kudou can’t find it in himself to stop his youngest team member as he continues. “We’re going to do everything in our power to find All For One and take him down. He’ll never hurt you or anyone else ever again.” Then, finally remembering his rank and his position, he nervously looks over at Kudou. “W-with your permission, sir,” he adds bashfully.
Kudou gives him a long, hard look, relishes in the way Izuku shivers in fear, before slowly nodding.
“I don’t want to make any promises we can’t keep,” Kudou says carefully. “But this whole precinct won’t rest until we find the bastard. Isn’t that right?” he yells at his peanut gallery of officers.
“Right boss!” his team choruses back. Izuku, his fear dissipated, beams next to him, his hopefulness oozing out and infecting everything and everyone in a twenty foot radius. Including Yoichi. The man loosens his grip enough for Kudou to pull away yet for some reason, Kudou doesn’t.
That same, tiny smile resurfaces onto Yoichi’s face as he looks around. “My heroes,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe. “All of you.” His eyes travel to every member of Kudou’s team, as if silently thanking them individually. En even straightens his back when Yoichi’s gaze falls on him. Yoichi then turns back to Kudou, who immediately stiffens.
“Thank you especially,” Yoichi quietly says, as if the message is for Kudou’s ears only, “for reaching out to me first, my hero.”
Kudou immediately shakes his head. “I’m not a hero.” His response is quick, instant, and blunt. It masks the shame Kudou feels at doing the bare minimum. At least, he hopes it does. “I’m just doing my job.”
Izuku opens his mouth, probably to say something profoundly inspiring and annoying again, only for Yoichi to beat him to the punch. “You are.” Yoichi’s smile grows. “Deny it all you want but you are a hero, Kudou.” He says it as if there’s no room for argument and Kudou can only grunt, words of protest sticking to the inside of his mouth like stale mochi under Yoichi’s beaming expression.
In all his years of police work, he has never met anyone like this man. Childish and wise, vulnerable and invulnerable. He’s a mishmash of all of the world’s goodness and terribleness at once. Kudou can only pray to all the gods out there that someday, he’ll be able to right all the injustices inflicted onto this man. And as the head of the precinct, he’ll do his damndest to do what he does best: lead his group to victory.
But for now, staring at Yoichi, Kudou can’t help but let the tiniest smile of his own escape his stressed and scarred face.
His grip tightens and he holds on.